The encounter at the association, however, changed everything.
Seeing them in person… Seeinghimin person…
It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. But the expectations pounding in my chest tell me that seeing them in all their adult glory flipped a switch in my head that hadn’t been touched in a very long time.
The Cinderella tale. The poor girl the rich man looks at and instantly falls in love with. These things don’t happen in real life—but Nero looked at me. He really looked at me. And just like that, I was back inside my teenage fantasy.
Which brings me to this moment—when I’m on the verge of tearing my hair out over drama that doesn’t even exist and that I’m sure only makes sense inside my head. Truthfully, it barely makes sense even there.
Scenario one: I go to the party and they ignore me, focusing all their attention—which I’m sure is highly contested—on things and people that actually matter to them. This is the most likely scenario. In it, I inevitably come home disappointed. It’s ridiculous, but I know myself. I know it will happen.
Scenario two: they actually talk to me. Which means I’ll be forced to talk to them. Which means my childish fantasy—one that never should have been awakened—might grow even stronger or be completely destroyed. And this is, without a doubt, the worst scenario, because I can’t even decide which of those outcomes I’d prefer.
“Don’t be silly,” my mother decides. “You’re going to the party. You’ll see your friends. Make new ones. You need friends.”
“Ihavefriends!” I protest, indignant.
“Who?” I blink, my mouth falling open, unable to believe my own mother’s audacity.
“I have… I have… I have lots of friends in Athens!” I lie.
It’s not that I was antisocial or lonely during my university years—I wasn’t. I went to parties, went out with friends, got drunk for the first time, did everything that’s expected of a young woman who leaves a tiny village like Khione for a city like Athens.
Well… almost everything.
But just as I didn’t form deep friendships here before leaving, I didn’t form them there either. There were friends—but they already feel more distant now that I’m back in Khione, even though it’s only been a week. And that’s never really been an issue for me. I feel like I’ll meet the right people when I’m meant to.
And with that simple thought, the Fantastic Four pops back into my mind—because that’s the kind of friendship I want for myself.
Thank you, Mom. Truly. Thank you so much.
I huff, and my mother’s brows lift.
“Great. But now that you’re here, it would be nice if you started making friends here too.”
She doesn’t argue, even though she knows I’m lying.
“I don’t need to do that today. Not at the association party,” I say, and her eyes narrow, scrutinizing.
I shift my weight uncomfortably and turn my face away, avoiding her gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just don’t feel like going,” I lie again.
“Nonsense! I know you, Nina. You came from me. You were pretending not to care, but you were excited to go. Up until today. What happened during the day? You got to the shop this morning and—”
“All right! All right! I’ll go! I’ll go!” I interrupt in panic as she starts verbally retracing my steps, terrified she’ll uncover the root of the problem.
For the love of God. This is embarrassing enough without anyone else knowing. I don’t need anyone else aware of my latest spiral—especially my mother. I love her, but I donotwant to have this conversation.
We had exactly one awkward conversation involving boys when I was fourteen, and that embarrassment alone was enough to last a lifetime. We are definitely not having that conversation now.
“I’ll go to the party,” I repeat, and my mother smiles, satisfied.
“Good. Then go get ready.”
***
